


some days looking is enough (not today)

by jeien



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Handcuffs, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 08:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15968636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeien/pseuds/jeien
Summary: Gaku thinks he has it all figured out, but he learns one very important lesson: Never underestimate Izumi Mitsuki.





	some days looking is enough (not today)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chosuiri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chosuiri/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY PART 2 HARU!!

He’s not exactly sure the appropriate reaction to something like this, but confusion is the first thing that comes to mind.

“Izumi-ani,” Gaku says, lightly rattling the handcuffs that bind both wrists to the bedpost to get his boyfriend’s attention, “what the hell is this supposed to be?”

Mitsuki finishes taking off his shirt and throws him a look over his shoulder with the same expression he most likely uses to talk to young children. And possibly Tamaki Yotsuba. “Those would be handcuffs, Yaotome. Would’ve thought you’d know what they were by now considering they’ve been the go-to prop for all your police dramas. Also, lift your hips a little.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he huffs out with a roll of his eyes. He lifts his hips anyway, as instructed, and Mitsuki wastes no time unzipping and pulling down Gaku’s pants just enough to free his loins. The bigger picture is finally starting to piece itself together, though it only makes way for more questions than answers. Such as, “Where did all this come from anyway? And I’m talking about the idea as much as the handcuffs. Doesn’t seem like your style at all.”

“Sure, I may not be as kinky as—let’s say—Sougo, but I’m not an innocent type, either.”

“Osaka, huh? I always knew that guy had something in him…”

“Hey. No talking about other guys allowed.”

“You were the one who started it!”

“Hm, hm, hm,” Mitsuki hums out teasingly, tapping a forefinger to his chin in a rhythm that feigns contemplation. “How should I punish you for that slight against me?”

Gaku closes his eyes and tilts his head back with an exasperated sigh, feeling the light _thunk_ of the headboard against his skull. He’s not sure how he should play along. The attempt at this kind of play is almost laughably bad—disjointed in the same way as a cheap adult video trying to piece together some kind of contextual plot—and Gaku isn’t quite so sure whether that’s the point. He doesn’t hear the soft click of a bottle cap being opened, the squelch of viscous liquid being squeezed out. “This isn’t making me horny as much as it’s making me confused, you know.”

He _does_ hear sheets shifting and bedsprings squeaking. By the time he opens his eyes again to take a look, all Gaku sees is Mitsuki with his cheek pressed up against the mattress and ass postured up in an obscenely pornographic display as two lubed fingers sink into his soft hole.

And Mitsuki, craning his neck to get a peek at his slack-jawed expression, has the _gall_ to look pleased. “How about now, Mr. Number One Desired Embrace?”

“Yeah,” Gaku manages to choke out after finding that his mouth suddenly went dry and that all the blood immediately rerouted to his now-hard cock. “Yeah, that’d do it.”

All at once, the atmosphere shifts to Mitsuki’s favor, as it always does at the hands of the industry’s best mood-maker. The older Izumi spreads his knees a little wider, pitches his breathy moans a little higher, makes it so that Gaku sees the precome dripping from between his legs, sees the peaks of pert nipples within the same frame. It's a staged shot if Gaku ever saw one. _Looks like Izumi-ani’s been studying up on how to get some incredible angles_. He can’t help but lick his lips, instinctively leaning forward to pull his lover onto his lap and have his way with him.

Except he can’t.

He rattles his restraints to get his lover’s attention. “Izumi-ani.”  

A punched-out whine is the only response he gets as Mitsuki continues to work his fingers in and out of himself, each thrust of the digits going a little deeper into a tight heat that Gaku would want nothing more than to bury himself into. His cock throbs at the sight. “Izumi-ani, come on.”

Still nothing. He watches Mitsuki turn his wrist a little, trying to get further with just his fingers alone but unable to do so. Dammit, if he could just move forward a little—or even if Mitsuki could move _back_.

This, Gaku realizes, is Mitsuki’s plan: the bigger picture is finally complete and Gaku had fallen for the trap hook, line, and sinker.

He may be a top idol with an image that exudes coolness and sensuality, but he’s still just a man. And he’s fucking weak. So, he decides to play the game.

“ _Mitsuki_ ,” he says, channeling all that sex appeal, all of his idol image into three syllables as his voice dips into a low growl. His lover’s rhythm stutters for the first time and Gaku could hear a quiet _Shit…!_ mixed in between the heaving breaths. “Mitsuki, please, let me touch you. I’ll fill you up better than your fingers, go as gentle or rough as you want it, I’ll give it all to you—just let me do more than just watch, let me help you come.”  

“Playing dirty, talking like that,” he hears Mitsuki say. The older Izumi slowly pulls out his fingers and lifts his upper body up with his elbows, looking over his shoulder to glance at him before moving backwards. Gaku lets out a shaky sigh, relief washing over him as he can practically feel Mitsuki seat himself on his waiting hardness. Instead, however, Mitsuki reaches back and thrusts two fingers inside him again in the same motion as before.

“Fuck,” Gaku groans, tossing his head back. “Come on, _please_ —!”

“Just like that,” Mitsuki whimpers, face falling against the sheets once more as his other hand moves down to jerk himself off with hurried strokes. “I want to hear you beg just like that, Yaotome, keep going.”

Forget playing the game. Gaku concentrates on the fleeting sensations of pleasure and submits to the shameless stream of words that tumble from his mouth, hoping for more. “Please, Mitsuki, I need something, anything.”

“Anything?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

Mitsuki slips his fingers out and spreads his hole before rutting back against Gaku’s hardness. The sensation makes him hiss, thrusting his hips up to chase the fleeting pleasure. As he hears his lover moan, loud and explicitly lewd, he continues to rub his cock against Mitsuki’s entrance, desperate for that tight heat.

“So close,” Mitsuki says, light and airy, still pumping himself. They’re both starting to unravel. Gaku’s rhythm falls apart into an erratic tempo of desperation as his chances get slimmer and slimmer. “I’m so close, Gaku, I’m gonna come…!”

“Mitsuki—!”

With one last cry, Mitsuki spills his pleasure into his hand.

Soft gasps for air fill the silence. After the haze of orgasm finally subsides, Gaku weakly rattles the handcuffs a little to get his lover’s attention.

“Forgetting something?” he asks, still painfully hard. _Izumi-ani’s not that much of a sadist, is he?_ That’s Nikaido’s role. Then again, this entire situation very well proved otherwise.

Mitsuki slowly sits up, eying Gaku’s erection. With a teasing hum, he says, “You’ll live.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

He watches his lover reach for a tissue at the bedside table and wipe his hand. Mitsuki looks back at Gaku with a wink—the fucking _audacity_ —and says, “Maybe if you’re good and beg some more, I’ll give you something nice.”

“Izumi-ani,” Gaku says, tilting his head back with an exasperated sigh and feeling the light _thunk_ of the headboard against his skull, “you’re the absolute worst.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: "here lies yaotome gaky, he still can't score"
> 
> Come scream with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jeienb/)!


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